Sweet Summer Time...

These pictures remind me of my youth.

My mom used to put myself, my big brother, and cousins into one of these outdoor kid corrals and let us play all day at the beach.

I wish I had an 80's-esque picture to insert here.

Anyway, I found this amazing kid pen at a tag sale last weekend ... I am pretty sure they don't even make them anymore.

As soon as I saw it I ran full speed ahead and held it over my head yelling, "GET BACK BITCHES! IT'S MINE!"

Okay I didn't do that but I did act totally cool and paid the lady and then skipped to my car.

Like la la it's all mine!

And gusess what?!

Today.... I got to clean out my car!!!!.... while the kiddos played together quietly in the grass.

And no one ate any leaves or bugs.

A pretty perfect morning if you ask me.


29 in 29 Update... Getting Henna

When I made my 29 in 29 list, I thought a lot about how very little I use my brain as a Stay at Home Mom.

People laugh when I say that, but it's the truth... not much thinking goes into butt wiping, you know??

When I made my list I really wanted to learn new things, and educate myself.

This past weekend my sweet friend, V, from the Gym, who I keep referring to as, "A real Indian..." gave me henna on both feet.

I keep stressing the authenticity of my henna because I pretty much always associate henna with something cheap and black that you get at the Jersey Shore.

But V, who had never applied it to anyone until me (but has gotten it 40+ times herself), taught me all about the history of the dye... and it does not include a boardwalk in Jersey.

The cone you see in V's hand she bought at an Indian store for $2.

For those of you out there with teenagers pestering you for a tattoo... I would totally go get a cone of henna paste for two bananas and let them try it out for a week or two, until it washes off.

Not a bad idea, right??

Especially because, if I am going to be honest... there is a reason you don't see a ton of white people walking around with henna.

It's because we don't have beautiful, tan, olive-y skin to set it off.

Henna looks terrible on white people.

There I said it.

I am happy I learned about henna, and got to spend time with my friend, who taught me about some of her customs, and drew like crazy all over my feet... but....

I look ridiculous in henna.

A man in the grocery store even stopped to point and stare at my feet the other day.

I know.

It's not the henna's fault.. it's my skin's fault.

I am too freaking pale to pull it off, sad but true.

There is a reason it looks beautiful on Indian women... because they're skin is not white.

But it's okay... because I am totally embracing my lily white skin meets dark coppery henna.

I love that I can educate people around me a little bit about the process...

That the paste goes on wet and dries like hard frosting...

...That you have to use lemon juice on a cotton ball and re-wet the hardened henna every half hour, for four hours.

After four hours, you scrape off the hard crusty frosting shell to reveal the dye on your skin. 

V says that brides are the best at keeping henna really beautiful, and making it last the longest, because they have nothing else to do pretty much... just get married, and take care of their hands and feet.

Interesting, right??

V was super patient with me, and didn't get annoyed when I asked 97 questions... or make fun of me because I am sure more than half of them were dumb.

I loved taking a peek into another culture, and stepping outside my daily life of Pampers, play dates, and piggy back rides.

So, here is my list today:

To see other updates, check here, and here.

29 in my 29th

1- Waterski (I attempted this endlessly as a child and could never stand up on those bloody skis).

2- Sing karaoke in a bar.

3- Watch the Wizard of Oz. (I have never seen it start to finish. I know.)

4- Eat Sushi.

5- Back squat 200 pounds.

6- Do a strict pull up.

7- Plant a garden (and not kill it).

8- Fly in a plane with sky divers (I will not be diving). (I am nervous just typing that)

9- Write letters to my children for them to open on their 18th birthdays.

10- Go on vacation with my husband... just the two of us.

11- Sew a dress for my daughter.

12- Have my writing published... anywhere.

13- Learn to decorate cakes.

14- Take a shot with my Husband.... in almost 5 years of marriage, and 10 years together... we have never done this.

15- Get real henna on my foot.

16- Eat lunch at a Vineyard with my Mom, sisters,and sister in law... actually try a sip of wine.

17- Make homemade ice cream with the Bugs.

18- Make a stepping stone with my family... put it in the garden that I am not going to kill.

19- Re-learn all the continents.

20- Learn the states in alphabetical order.

21- Go up in a stunt (like I did as a high school and college cheerleader...)

22- Learn how to use the grill; cook something on it.

23- Take Lovebug on a Ferris Wheel.

24- Take the Bugs on a Ferry ride (my first).

25- Take a trapeze class.

26- Make a ginger bread house with the Bugs (my first).

27- Learn how to mow the lawn on a tractor.

28- Go snow skiing (I used to do this as a kid, but stopped well before age 8).

29- Play 9 holes of golf, drive the cart.

Wordless Wednesday


Internet Life, Meet My Real Life

I have a bazillion cousins.

I'm talking just first cousins.

My dad is one of 6 and my mom is one of 8, so after a lot of baby making... I ended up with 27 first cousins....

Which means... there are bound to be more than a few of them that I never see.

So, when my cousin Julie messaged me and told me that her and her friend read my blog, I was excited, and shocked (I have readers other than my brother?).

 I mean, if I see Julie and her sisters twice a year, it's a lot.

Anyway, Julie has been a reader for awhile, so she knows that I believe in an Open Door Policy, the More the Merrier type-a-thing at home.

So she just went a head and sent me a message and was all... "Can we come to dinner to see Our Tiny Place in action?"

I was seriously touched.

And surprised.

Again... people read this??

She came to dinner on a Saturday night with her friend Kate... who was officially the first person I have met in real life that reads my blog, that doesn't actually know me.

It was kind of cool, and kind of weird.

Like she knew me, but I don't know her.

It was weird, but in a good way.

Like Jell-o... or a thong bikini.

Before they showed up, I was like... "What if they think I'm a big phony and none of the shit that usually goes on, actually goes on??"

And then... they showed up, and I walked downstairs to find Lovebug had stripped himself down to his birthday suit.

Okay, so things were actually exactly how I write it.

Real life, meet my Internet life.

I always wonder about my blog, if people like what I write, why they read, if they'd read it they didn't know me... if they have things they'd like to see changed, etc. etc.

It was so interesting to pick their brains, and hear them spout off their favorite Lovebug stories.

Really, my mind was blown. I think my mouth was open the whole night.

A few days after Julie and Kate came to dinner, we met up with Julie and her sisters, Mary & Carol to hit up a playground with the kids.

It's nice because these are cousins I never, ever get to see... and now I've seen them twice in two weeks.

Plus, they had never met Ladybug, and blogging has let them have a view into my life... and get to know me better, like cousins should.

So I got to thinking... maybe I have another reader out there (could there possibly be 3 of you?!) ... and maybe you want me to burn you something for dinner, or make you some chickpea cookies....

Consider the invite on the table.

You let me know when you're coming.

Oh yeh, and PS... I am a terrible blogger and took terrible pictures of my Real Life meets Internet Life dinner with Kate and Julie, so I have nothing exciting to show you.

Apology accepted? Great. Thanks.


Sleep Training Update

Ever since the whole, "I need a vacation and a fireman!" day, Lovebug has been doing pretty damn amazing with his sleeping.

I was scared to write about it before because I didn't want to jinx it, but I think he might just be kinda sorta cured of his bedtime bullshit routine.

Either that or he is scared I will close his door and turn off the hallway light again.

 I honestly don't even care why he is going to sleep, just that he is.

So... since he has been on a pretty strict bedtime routine for just shy of a month now, an amazing thing has happened.

My former party animal, who wouldn't go to sleep until 1 am at my parent's house??

He can't hang anymore.

He needs his bed, and his twelve hours, and his book, and bath, and sleep time lotion (Aveeno Lavender, works wonders)...

So this weekend, when we hit two parties in a short three hour period and then got home forty five minutes past bedtime, Lovebug was a little thrown off.

And the next morning, well... he was a puddle.

A puddle of baby tired-ness.

He had gone to watch TV with his dad while I attempted to get dressed by myself (a weekend treat).

At some point, he told his father he was going to find me, and headed upstairs.

He never made it.

Because he got comfortable on the landing and passed out.

Yes. Lovebug still wears diapers to bed. One full year after getting potty trained.

Poor reformed frat boy.

Mommy wins.


Tornado 2.0

Poor Girlfriend... she is one hundred miles an hour all the time, climbing, crawling, eating, eating, eating... sometimes, I just have to contain her.

If you ask me the only way to make sure everyone is safe with two little ones on the move... is to keep one of them where you can see them at all times.

Whether it's the pack and play, an exersaucer, a high chair... as long as she can't get out... we're doing okay.

Dollface is not a fan of this procedure... and hates when I force her to play in a confined area once or twice a day.

Seriously, she is such a drama queen. Husband puts her in the pack n' play and she just sits down and plays her face off.

Now when I put her in... it's a different story.

But she is a complete freaking faker.


She's lucky she's cute, because once she's out... Girlfriend is Hell on wheels.

She is into ev-ery-thing.

Everything. Everything. Everything.

At least I am used to it from Lovebug.

I used to worry a lot about all the clothes getting unfolded, and the floors crunching.

But Lovebug, aka, Tornado Numero Uno... he prepped me...

Over the past three years he has taught me that it eventually all gets done, and that what doesn't get done, probably isn't all that important anyway.

Why have one tornado, when you can have two?? Right??

 I love me some tornadoes.


Don't Worry...

... I washed the pillow cover.


Yes Day

When I saw Lovebug and his Godmother laying in the grass together, "taking a nap..." I couldn't help but stop what I was doing just to take this picture.

Sometimes I am jealous of them, these other besties.

I don't have any nieces or nephews, but I imagine it is simply wonderful to play with a child that loves you, and whom you will never have to discipline.

What an amazing concept... just being a playmate.

Sometimes I toy with the idea of offering Lovebug a, "Yes Day."

Of course, I wouldn't actually tell him it was a, "Yes Day,"... but in my brain I'd know.

Anything he asked... within reason, all day long... I'd answer, "Yes."

"Can we eat hot dogs in your bed and watch The Hulk?"


"Can we go to the park, the bike path, bowling, the farm and the merry ground? Before nap?"


"Can I go to Target with no clothes on? And then the Gym?"


A day to just be his friend.

To be fun, not responsible.

To not have to remind him to be polite, to take a nap, to eat at the table.

To have the crumbs, and the laundry, and the pee all over the walls... be someone else's problem.

If I could just get Husband to agree to a " Daddy Cleans Up Our Mess Day," then Lovebug and I could have our, "Yes Day."

Good thing the NBA Finals are on... no better time to ask.

Belated Father's Day 2012

Better late than never....

I know for certain that our kids have my energy and over the top-ness bulging out of their genes...

I know that three excited, loud people can be a lot for anyone to handle...

We are so lucky that this guy just laughs off our shenanigans, and takes care of us all... everyday, all day.

Happy Belated Father's Day to my fantastic husband, to your fantastic husband, and to all the single Mom's out there who are pulling double duty!


I Snapped This Picture...

Of Lovebug the other day....

Those of you that have been reading for a long time probably already guessed this, but he is not wearing anything but that mask and that cape.

Only the bravest superheros go in the buff... hello? Imagine the dangers!

Anyway, the second I saw this picture in the camera I ran to Husband and said...

"Let's use this for invitations to his High School Graduation Party... and put it in the yearbook, too!"

And he was all, "Ok... this weekend?"

That's why I married him... because he doesn't listen when I talk.

Don't worry... it works out in my favor more often than not.

Anyway, back to the Nudey-Man up there... the poor thing has no idea how much ammunition he is giving me for his future.

He better figure it out soon... 2027 is right around the corner!

Rice, Rice Baby

 When you marry a good Italian boy, it is only right to call his Mother, get her sauce recipe... memorize it, and make it once or twice a month for the entire first year of your marriage.

And freeze some... just in case.

I know, because I did this myself.

Husband and I were spaghetti and meatball fanatics for a very short time in our lives... now?

Not so much.

Half a decade later, and our days of eating pasta once a week are long gone.

We don't even eat it once a month.

Or once every three months.

For me, it's more like once every 6 months. Maybe once or twice more if we are visiting our Mom's (both use pasta as a go-to for dinner).

Husband likes it more than me, but I am famous for saying that pasta tastes like, "air," and I don't feel like wasting calories on "air."

Anyway, the point is... if we don't eat pasta... why the Hell do I have an entire shelf just for pasta?

That makes no sense.

So... The non-expired boxes of pasta went to a local food bank, and the expired ones got the boot.

While I was chucking the grains, I found two boxes of rice.

I can not even remember the last time we ate rice.

Probably before Lovebug was born.

And apparently, in a news flash to no one... it is so processed that it can live forever.

Because the expiration dates, said something like... NE/VE/ER.

So... at the risk of having my child glow in the dark, I decided to give that rice a makeover, and let him play with it.

A couple drops of food coloring and a little booty shaking later (gotta mix that stuff up!), and we were almost done.

The next step was to dump that rice onto some plates, and let it dry for two hours during nap time....

While Lovebug napped, I filled a big ol' tub with the rice-that-looks-like-sprinkles....

And when he woke up, he tore at that stuff and played nice...

 Until he stopped playing nice and started making a mess... per usual.

All things considered... it wasn't a bad little project considering Lovebug played with that rice for almost a week... and I was going to throw it out anyway.

Although; it does look like someone got married on our deck... and in our yard... but the chipmunks are excited about it.


She's Got Legs...

And she knows how to use 'em.

It is no secret that my Girlfriend's got good old fashioned American thighs.

This past weekend, she figured out how to use those meaty little hams to climb up onto a chair.

Well ain't she fancy?

Determined little thing, isn't she?

Ice Cream For Dinner

When my mother was pregnant with my youngest sister in the summer of 1988, the North East was hit with a heat wave that lasted 45 consecutive days.

I know this, because my Mother often brings it up like a War Veteran might do with Vietnam.

"When I was pregnant with Tyler... it was 90 degrees or better every day for 45 days... and I had to wear varicose vein stockings... and your Father wouldn't let me buy a fan, so I made one out of some forks."

Okay, that last part isn't true... but the rest of it is.

Anyway... I distinctly remember that during that hot summer, my mother often served us ice cream for dinner.

It was just, "too damn hot to cook," or so she told us once a week or so when she placed bowls of ice cream in front of our sun burned faces.

Not like she needed to explain herself.

We were 7, 5, and 3 at the time... and it was ice cream... for dinner.

We were like hot little pigs in shit, happy.

We often talk about those nights and laugh about the cheap-o Vanilla Bean ice cream my mother bought consistently for like fifteen years in a row... about the night our black lab beat us to the kitchen table and dove head first into our ice cream bowls.

About my poor sweaty Mom... with 3 kids, one on the way, and no air conditioning.

The point is... we all remember it.

So when I heard about Ryan's Banana Split Party.. a trend inspired by a young boy who is very ill...

I thought it was high time to let Lovebug in on the ice cream for dinner business, and make some memories with my doll.

Safe to say he is a fan.


Why Are These Not Disgusting?

Here's the short story:

I made these grain free cookies that are chock full of CHICK PEAS... and they were not disgusting... they are actually really good.

The long story... 

Starts with Husband and I committing to a Weight Loss Competition with our friends from the Gym.

Picture four friends whining about having to put on bathing suits for the 4th of July, while shoving their faces with pizza.

And then... signing their summers away to a Weight Loss Competition... $20 a head to enter, $5 if we don't lose once a week on Weigh In Day.

I was all... "Let's just end it on the 4th of July! Mission Accomplished!"

And they're all...  "No."

So, fast forward to today, and our competition is in full swing, and with an end date of August 17th... whoever has the greatest percentage of weight loss, takes the whole pot of money.

What does all this have to do with grain free cookies??

Well, we decided to have our Weigh Ins on Friday mornings.

So all last week I'm nomming on broccoli and thinking, "Friday night, I am diving head first into a pizza box and not sharing with anyone! Not even the kids! Not even if they cry!"

But when Friday came, and with it... a loss on the scale... I didn't want to cheat anymore.

I wanted to continue eating well.

My sweet tooth was just dying for a treat though.

So, I googled a bit... and found these cookie dough bites, made with chick peas.

They are still cookie-esque, so they aren't as good for you as eating say, asparagus... but they are better than almost any other dessert I considered... and they actually didn't taste bad.

For real.

I know.

There are tons of chick peas up in these puppies, but for whatever reason, you can't freaking taste them.

All I tasted was peanut butter, chocolate, vanilla goodness to my face.

Try as I might... I couldn't eat just one. Or just two. Or just three.

Fuck. I ate four. Gahhh they were good!

I am a cookie connoisseur, and I am already planning on making them again this weekend.

Pizza Friday has officially turned into Chick Pea Friday... at least, until August 17th anyway... and then it will be Brownie-Cookie-Ice Cream Sundae- Cake To My Face Friday.

Recipe Sidenote: If you make the grain free jobbies: I added an extra 5 minutes to the baking time because they were too wet and I wanted more of a cookie texture and less of a doughey texture. The recipe also makes way more than it says it does. Too many cookies? Wah.

Disclaimer: I would feel like a cookie cheater if I didn't give a shout out to my all time favorite cookie. Tollhouse Original Cookie Recipe, you will always have my heart. My thighs and waist band too. I love you.
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...
Blog design by Get Polished | Copyright Our Tiny Place 2017